‘I will put him on his back,’ I promised. ‘But I’ve just realised I do not have a thing to wear.’
Lucian opened the door. ‘Garrick!’
‘My lord?’
‘We require evening dress for Miss Lawrence.’
‘I have already dispatched a note to Madame Vernier with the request that she sends a semptress with the clothes so that any alterations can be made, my lord.’
‘I thought ready to wear clothes were not available,’ I said, dredging around in my inadequate knowledge while Lucian gave his valet the sort of look that promised retribution later. Garrick had obviously put his money on me winning that round. ‘But, of course, she sent me a day dress, so there must be some.’
‘For his lordship Madame will take something awaiting another client as she did the other morning,’ Garrick explained.
For the sake of tact I swallowed the observation that Lucian must put a good deal of valuable business in Madame’s way. ‘Thank you, Garrick.’
‘Jewels, my lord?’
‘Of course. Let us see what Madame sends round first.’
Chapter Twelve
James came to collect me at half past ten, by which time Madame herself had sewn me into a gown of gold net over amber satin, high under the bust and with what felt like a mere inch of bodice between me and a major wardrobe malfunction. What with being unable to breathe because of the stays, and not daring to do anything that might dislodge my boobs from their inadequate anchorage, I found I was moving in a sort of stately glide that did wonders for my deportment.
When I emerged Lucian produced a stack of leather boxes and selected a yellow diamond necklace, ear drops and a pair of bracelets to clasp over the long white evening gloves.
‘Are those real?’ His fingers were warm on the nape of my neck as he fastened the necklace and the stones were cool on skin that was becoming heated by his closeness.
‘I sincerely hope so,' James said, studying the effect from across the room, head on one side. ‘That is part of the Pemberton Parure. Great Grandmama Pemberton brought them into the family. If they turn out to be paste then she will come back and haunt us.’ My gulp was probably audible in the next room. James grinned. ‘You look very fine, Cassie, does she not, Luc?’
‘Very fine,’ Lucian agreed, still standing behind me. I felt his breath stir my hair. For a moment his hands rested on my shoulders, titling me back against his body.
I found some breath to speak with. ‘So do you,’ I told James who swept me a bow. He was wearing the severest of black and white with a sapphire stick pin in his neckcloth and what looked like an antique intaglio signet on his finger.
‘We will go and raise the tone of Welney’s party by several degrees if you are ready, Cousin.’
‘Take care,’ Lucian said flatly. ‘You are not dealing with a gentleman, whatever his rank.’ He came round to face me as Garrick brought in a cloak and placed it over my shoulders. ‘Damn it, I ought to come with you.’
‘We will get nowhere in that case,’ James said. ‘He knows you and Clement are close friends and if he has anything to hide concerning Arabella he will become exceedingly cautious. He hardly knows me.’
‘How will you get us in then?’ I asked.
‘A friend of a friend,’ James said vaguely and Lucian became expressionless. Ah.
We went in the carriage, of course, even though it only felt like a five minute journey, but there were our evening shoes to consider, to say nothing of a king’s ransom of diamonds hung about me to tempt any passing footpad.
‘There will be no receiving line, no respectable hostess and the whole thing will be exceptionally relaxed,?
? James warned. It sounded wonderful to me.
We found a press of carriages close to the wide-open front door which was lit by half a dozen flambeaux. Couples and single men were entering and we joined them with me clinging to James’s arm while I managed my skirts and the cloak.
However lax the entertainment, the staff were certainly on the ball. My cloak was removed, James’s hat and cane whisked away and I was ushered into the, ‘Ladies’ withdrawing room, Madam,’ before I had a chance to enquire.
I checked that my neckline was more or less decent, fluffed my hair, blotted at my nose with a despairing wish for some decent foundation, and exchanged smiles with one woman and a cool stare with another who looked as though she would feel quite at home in any twenty first century nightclub.
James was waiting for me, chatting to a group of men who, I guessed, might share his particular preferences. Certainly their eyebrows lifted when he gave me his arm and took me off without offering to introduce me to any of them.
We drank champagne, strolled around, James steering me away from some of the men who were already the worse for drink and a couple who, he said, had tentacles like octopuses.